Better than Roses
by RavensHeart85
Summary: Hermione and Ginny have been apart for a while, but nothing can rekindle love like Valentine's Day. Sometimes knowing you would still choose the same person again and again can be the most romantic gift of all. One-Shot.


**A/N: Happy Valentine's Day to everyone out there. I am well aware this day can mean varying things to different people and the meaning is often dependent on a person's current romantic situation. As such, I will avoid writing something too sappy or too generically romantic. I've decided to write something a bit more…real. Romance isn't always filled with fluff and magic where every little piece of the puzzle fits together wonderfully. Sometimes, love in real life takes work, but I think that is what makes it all the more special – that two people are willing to stop and look past the surface and dig deeper to what really matters and determine if the person sitting next to them is truly worth fighting for when times get tough, because they most assuredly will. Anyone can go out a buy a dozen red roses for Valentine's Day, but how many people can truly touch someone's heart?**

Hermione slammed her quill on the desk, causing ink to splatter across the surface, frustrating her further. She sighed heavily and looked at Crookshanks, who paused in his afternoon grooming to watch her, appearing annoyed at the interruption.

"This is futile, Crookshanks." Hermione sighed again and buried her head in her hands. The ginger cat resumed his cleaning now that she had settled.

Scattered across her desk beneath her were stacks of letters. In the past year, Hogwarts had adopted an unofficial dating service initiated by a small group of students. Letters were sent by owl from house to house in hopes of finding a particular match. When Hermione had first heard of such a thing, she scoffed at the notion, finding it ridiculous, but that was a time when she still had someone special in her life. These days were different. She wasn't sure who oversaw this service, but she had a sneaking suspicion there might be house elf involvement in the background. Suddenly, she felt all the more worse for participating, envisioning in her mind an unfortunate house elf standing amongst a fountain of letters pouring in, trying frantically to match teenagers with each other, as if they would have any clue as to what they were doing. Perhaps that was why all of her efforts had turned up nothing. She felt guilty now, having fallen to the temptation of participating in the service for the past few weeks in lieu of the upcoming Valentine's holiday – a day which had brought her much trepidation. The dreaded day had been fast approaching, creeping up on her in a way she could not hide from no matter how hard she tried. The funny thing about time was that it snuck up on you no matter how much you felt it should stop, especially if you felt your world had recently crashed. Shouldn't everything else cease then as well, even time itself? For what purpose did time serve in her life if it was not to spend it with a certain beautiful redhead?

She propped up her head in her hand and imagined herself in Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop sitting in a corner seat alone. Each and every table would showcase a fresh rose resting in a vase centered between couples gazing into each other's eyes as little Cupid's fluttered overhead. She imagined gazing into nothing, wondering if Madam Puddifoot would bother to waste a perfectly good rose on her. Surely the old shop owner would not desire to display such a sad sight for all to see. She wondered if the woman would permit cats to enter and envisioned Crookshanks sitting in her lap, licking up a bowl of cream. As if on cue, Crookshanks meowed and jumped, prancing off to chase after a mouse, apparently a far more appealing pastime than joining his owner in her state of gloom. Once again, Hermione felt the bitter pang of solitude.

Loneliness is a feeling one never quite grows accustomed to, even when it has become familiar. Hermione had been alone now for several months, but it felt like much longer. It had been such a long time – a lifetime ago - since a particular redhead had touched her, soothed her mind and body with her words and caresses. These days, all of that remained had been reduced to shadows of memories. She snuffed out the memories before they could take shape in her mind, not eager to go down that road of reflection. She glanced at the pile of letters crumpled beneath her, randomly picking up a few and skimming through the lines on the pages, eager to forget, yet instantly tossing them back disappointedly. Nothing here had what she was looking for. Not one crinkled piece of parchment seemed to understand her. Not one seemed to offer the kind of spark or hope she once had in her life. Not a single one whispered the language of love. She wondered if she would ever get that flame within her heart back again or if anyone could even come close to igniting it once more. She rose from her desk and walked toward the window, surveying the grounds. Her surroundings were beautiful, covered in a pristine white snow, but all Hermione could feel was the cold, surrounding her wherever she went. Looking out below her, all that beauty could remind her of was just how frozen her life had become.

Naturally then, she felt the urge to venture into the cold and embrace it, rather than shy away or deny its existence in her life. She wasn't going to shut herself up in a warm tower and sit by the fire in denial, pretending the snow and wind was not knocking at her window. She bundled up with layers of clothing and pulled on her boots as she made her way through the blowing snow, heading toward the Forbidden Forest. She knew she shouldn't be there, but she didn't much care. There was just something about the vastness and silence of the dark woods that beckoned her further, feeling a sort of kinship within the walls of trees. She had brought the letters with her, crumpled into a pile in her hand and finally, her boots ceased their crunching sound beneath her as she came to a stop. Hermione gathered some stray twigs and stacked them before her, then mumbled the incantation to set them aflame. Valentine's Day would be the following day and Hermione quickly felt her hopes going up in flame along with the letters she was about to toss in. There was nothing worse than being alone on a day when everyone around you was giddy with sickening celebration. One by one, she dropped the letters into the fire, watching them quickly becoming swallowed up as the flames danced around the parchment and licked the edges into ashes. Hermione stopped suddenly, the last letter in her extended hand, held just above the flames, but she found herself unable to let go. Something inside of her urged her to read this final remaining letter written on faded, yellow parchment. _Why?_ She wondered. Surely this one was no different than the others. What set this one apart or made it special? Hermione did not know. Yet something inside of her begged her again to read it despite her reluctance and skepticism. Her body was not obeying her mind's will and after a few moments, she succumbed and unfolded the worn yellow parchment.

The letter was brief, mysterious, and vague, yet enticingly romantic in nature and Hermione could feel her heart being pulled into the paper. The author spoke of a meeting at sunrise atop of the Astronomy Tower the following day. Hermione scoffed to herself in the silence of the woods, where the sound echoed around her. She imagined the author standing atop the tower, surrounded by several people, all scattered about and eager to receive the unspoken intentions of such a bold and foolish author. Why would someone make such an open invitation so randomly? Surely this person is setting themselves, as well as others, up for disappointment. Well, Hermione would have no part in that.

She kicked the pile of twigs about, scattering them to the wind, the fire extinguished as soon as the flames were touched by the cold snow. The letter remained clenched in her hand, which she was unwilling to part with still for some reason. Hermione made her way back toward the castle, feeling colder when she entered the stone halls than while she had been in the forest.

Sleep did not come to her that night as nightmares filled her head. She imagined running through the forest, lost and confused, knowing somewhere she should find a break in the trees and a warm light beckoning her out, yet feeling trapped as she remained in the darkness. Somewhere around her, escape was within reach, but just beyond her, too far to touch. She woke suddenly, a cold sweat beading on her forehead, tangled in her sheets and looked frantically around the room at her peacefully resting roommates. None of them looked troubled at all. They must have been dreaming of their sweethearts waiting to meet them in the morning, bringing gifts of flowers or chocolates, maybe even reciting sonnets of words that were not their own. But Hermione had no such things to looked forward to or dream about. It was just about dawn and Hermione knew she would be unable to return to sleep, not even sure she wanted to. Something was pulling her feet forward and she felt a sudden urgency grip her. She was going to be late, but she knew not for what, and if she didn't hurry, she might miss it. Hermione did not know what this "it" was, but she felt as though her life depended on it. She hurried and dressed and before she knew it, her feet had taken her out of bed, through the common room, and at the foot of the winding steps of the Astronomy Tower. Somehow, the yellow parchment was in her hand again, though Hermione did not remember taking it along. As she looked up at the steps, she was filled with apprehension as well as something else, something less familiar that she had not felt in a long time – hope.

She ascended the stairs which seemed to have gone on for miles, each footstep falling heavily in tune with her racing heart. The wooden door creaked open and her eyes fell to the exact spot where a single redheaded figure was standing. Their eyes met and Hermione felt her heart stop at the exact moment Ginny looked at her.

Hermione's heart sunk into her stomach. She had been hoping to find something atop the tower, not sure of what that something was, but certainly not Ginny, not again. She told herself this, over and over, as she stood there, frozen to the spot, that it had not been Ginny she had sought. Secretly, in a whisper, her heart told her mind she was lying.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked Ginny, her annoyance and disappointment clearly etched into her words. She didn't know if she was more annoyed at Ginny or herself.

"I could ask you the same thing." The redhead replied, sounding disappointed as well at Hermione's reaction. The brunette was here, but it wasn't how Ginny had pictured it in her mind when she had spent countless sleepless nights hatching this plan. "Why did you come, Hermione?"

Hermione spoke more to herself than to Ginny, her words coming out muffled, her mumbles chastising herself. "I should have known this would just be yet another thing that wouldn't work out as expected. I knew I shouldn't have fallen for it, but here I am yet again, with my hopes up."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

The question came out sounding small, filled with hurt and the sound of it made Hermione's heart ache, freezing her in her steps. She knew her words had been insensitive and they were not meant to harm Ginny, only herself, but once they were out, the brunette instantly regretted them. She instinctively wanted to take away Ginny's pain, but knew there was no use denying the truth. Even after all that time, after all the disagreements between them and pain they had caused one another, Hermione still wanted to comfort Ginny. It just felt natural.

"We never could make it work out, could we, Ginny? There was always seemed to be something, always in the way."

"Maybe…we never really let it work out. Maybe we never gave it our best chance. Maybe we gave up on each other when it got too hard. I don't know why I let that happen and I never thought I would be the type of person who ever would, but I did."

Hermione had one hand on the door and was about to leave when she heard Ginny's reply. Ginny's words made her cold heart soften and melt. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her back rising in the sky as the words sunk in. The rays of the sun began to illuminate the castle, shining down upon them both and when Hermione turned to face Ginny she was transported back into the past. She remembered a time when Hermione and Ginny would sneak out of their beds each and every morning to meet in this very spot, a warm blanket wrapped around the two of them as they huddle closely together, snuggling, without a single word needed to be spoken between them. There was time, Hermione remembered, when they never missed spending a single sunrise or sunset together. The look on Ginny's face told Hermione the younger girl had been thinking similar thoughts.

"Why did you come?" Ginny asked again.

The sun was shining fully upon them now. The sky was painted in colors of orange, red, and purple. Hermione reached into her pocket and fingered the crumpled parchment and looked around. It was a scene she was familiar with in every way; right down to the silence of the grounds reassuring the fact that only the two of them were present. Hermione realized there were no others, no one else there to respond to Ginny's letter, no one except herself.

"Why did you write this? Hermione asked, returning Ginny's question with her own. "Or rather, for whom did you write it?"

Ginny smiled. "Well…if you notice, we are the only ones here, aren't we? I should think it rather obvious."

Hermione laughed to herself and shook her head, throwing her hands up in the air and paced about as Ginny's eyes followed her. "This…is just so…maddening! All of it. Because I've come to the realization just now that I have known all along I am incapable of loving anyone but you. I was simply forcing myself into denial. And I know this because all this time, I subconsciously kept this letter because somehow, I knew it was from you and I wanted so badly, more than anything, for that to be true."

Ginny was shocked by Hermione's outburst, too stunned to respond, so she remained silent, watching Hermione continue to pace around.

"I should have known all along that I could search forever, but it would be in vain. It seems to be my destiny that my journey will always lead me back to you. You have always been all I ever needed and wanted and no one could ever compare, or even come close to you." Hermione stopped and turned to Ginny with tears in her eyes. "Yet somehow, you are all the more perfect because we, together, are imperfect. For all of the things about you that drive me crazy, for all of our flaws between us, all of our tiffs and disagreements, and misunderstandings, I just can't help myself. No one could ever agitate me as much as you do or get under my skin like you can because no one could affect me in such a way as you can. No one could touch me like you do. I can't love anyone like how I love you."

Hermione laughed to herself again and continued on, shaking her head.

"I guess you have to find the one who drives you crazy, who makes you spend sleepless nights in bed just thinking about them because, try as you might, you just can't get them out of your head. They are just…in you. I guess that's how you know the person is work fighting for, worth working through all of your issues for, because you just can't let them go. You can't not love the person. And no matter what, you'll always find your way back to that person."

Hermione paused and looked at the letter. For the first time, she turned it over. On the back, written in tiny letters were the words "I still love you, Hermione. I always will."

Tears filled Hermione's eyes. "I still love you too, Ginny. I can't not love you, try as hard as I might, and I have certainly tried very hard. And you know…I don't want to try not to anymore."

"I know I have my faults. I know how stubborn I can be and I know I can be difficult. And yet despite that and all of my flaws, here you stand. I'm not sure how many people would put up with me, Ginny and I don't even want to know who would because they don't matter. Ginny…there will never be another you. And since you came into my life, my heart has lost all ability to care or love for another. It always has and always will be yours. I guess sometimes, we just need to be reminded of such things if we get a little lost along the way. There could never be another you in my life. I don't know what I was doing looking through those letters, but my heart was never in it. The whole time, I think I was trying to find another you, but here you were, standing in front of me the whole time."

Ginny smiled and closed the distance between them. "You have been too far away for too far long." She touched Hermione's cheek softly and Hermione could feel her body caving to Ginny as her head fell into Ginny's hand. Ginny drew Hermione into a hug, wrapping both arms around the older girl and hugging her closely. She pulled away just enough for their lips to meet softly. Hermione felt as though she was floating on air and her world had been turned upside down. For the first time in ages, warmth filled her from head to toe.

"It's scary." Hermione spoke shakily.

"What is?" Ginny asked softly.

"To know that my heart is only capable of loving you, that I only have this one chance to be happy, and if I were to lose it, I would lose everything." Hermione replied and Ginny could now feel Hermione's body shaking along with her words. She clung to the younger girl, never wanting to let her go now that she finally had her once more.

"I promise you, Hermione, you won't lose me. I'm here, right now, and I always will be. I don't want to let anything else get in the way. I know it is scary, but I think it is even scarier to live my life without ever trying to fight and pursue that happiness when I know I could have it right here. I will never let you go again." Ginny spoke, as she pulled Hermione even closer.

They didn't end up going to Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop with the other students. They didn't get their fresh rose at the center of any table and didn't hold hands for all to see. They didn't exchange chocolates or flowers that would wilt and die within the following week. Every word Ginny and Hermione spoke had not been recited or copied from some famous quote or could be found in a greeting card, but came from within. They exchanged something far deeper and more meaningful between them and the fact it had occurred on Valentine's Day had been irrelevant, for they both knew they felt that way every day of the year and didn't require a calendar to tell them the words they knew needed to be spoken. They remained together the rest of the day, just being with each other, holding each other close, both knowing that when the sun rose the next day, they would find each other there, and every single day after.

**A/N: Dear Reader,**

**I hope that regardless of your situation, if you are with someone, waiting on someone, trying to find the courage to be with someone, trying to get over someone, or perfectly fine on your own that the story was as enjoyable for you to read as it was for me to write. **

**And to my love, my motivation for writing this, TheForgottenLover:**

** I hope you know that even though you may not be with me, there is not a day that goes by that you do not touch my heart. I will wait for you in every sunrise and every sunset until the day I will hold you forever.**


End file.
